


Perfectly horrid everything

by Cliopadra



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 2., Crack, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Eggs, Gen, Historical clothes, M/M, Narnia parody, Other, Please don't take anything seriously, Snakes, Wardrobe, kiwi bird - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliopadra/pseuds/Cliopadra
Summary: A compilation of short crack stories written for the OLHTS and then Ticketty Boo - Perfectly Horrid Velocipedes event.I'm no writer so these are kinda really bad, but as my first attempt at participating, with the prompt eggs, won, I might as well start posting them here like the others do. Ya know. For shits and giggles.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. 20% Egg

**Promt: Eggs! Lay em, eat em, be them, hell I don't care!**

All angels and demons have certain animalistic features. Serpentine eyes, crow wings, pigeon brains, frog hats,...and very often a single being is equipped with the features of several creatures at once. These are not always external.  
Aziraphale's wings were those of a swan and Crowley had assumed that that was where Aziraphale's beastly side ended. As he found out several months after the Nopepocalypse...that assumption was wrong.

It was two weeks since Aziraphale stopped picking up the phone. Two weeks since their near daily dinners out in fancy restaurants. Two weeks since he even opened up the shop. Crowley was starting to get worried. It was no surprise to him that Aziraphale would need a small isolation break sooner or later but the complete lack of contact was becoming somewhat concerning to say the least. After a whole lot of pacing and screaming at plants, Crowley decided he couldn't take it anymore so he hopped in the Bentley and made his way to the bookshop. He was going to find out what's going on if Aziraphale liked it or not.  
Aziraphale's doors were locked and all the blinds were down with no sign of anyone being inside. Crowley snapped his fingers at the lock and stepped in. He looked around the messy bookshelves and just as he was about to call for the angel he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening in shock. Out of the back room waddled a very round Aziraphale. Very, VERY round. Yes, the angel had always been plump, one of the things that Crowley loved about him, but now he didn't look so much fat as as an overdue expectant mother of twins...maybe triplets (how big are human babies again?)  
"Oh! Crowley!" Aziraphale called out to the demon frozen in his doorway, waking him from his shocked state. "What are you-"  
"What in Satan's fucking name Angel!?" Crowley shrieked a few pitches too high "Wha- When were you going to tell me???"  
"Tell you what?"  
"That you're..." He waved his hands around theatrically before pointing to Aziraphale's way too large abdomen. "That you're...THAT!"  
Aziraphale gave him a confused look before realisation hit "Oh! Oh no, Crowley! No! I'm not pregnant! I'm just- going to lay an egg that's all. A normal thing, it happens every now and then. It's unfertilised, don't worry!"  
Lay an egg. Yes. That thing. It happened to Crowley a few times too. It was very irregular and happened out of the blue. One minute he was acid tripping on a pin head with his bosses and next he was stuck at home as clutch of dead leathery snake blobs grew inside him. It was probably the most useless bodily function he had. And probably the most uncomfortable.  
With a small sigh of relief he looked back down at Aziraphale "Oh, good, good, fine..." He blinked and took in his sheer size "Jesus, look at you! How many do you even have in there???"  
"Oh just the one"  
"Just the one???" Crowley gave a confused laugh "Aziraphale there's no way that's just one eg-"  
"Oh it is! I don't think I could possibly handle two! It's probably impossible anyway, my dear. Have you ever heard of a kiwi who layed two eggs at once?"  
A kiwi? Oh, he knew those. They were the weird fluffy flightless birds from that island where they filmed the Lord of the Rings! The nature program said they laid eggs that were about 20% of their body weight, the biggest body to egg ratio in the animal kingdom...  
Remembering that, Crowley looked back down at his lover's belly with a horrified expression "Angel you can't be serious. Are you trying to tell me all of that is one single egg?"  
"Yes?"  
"You can't possibly- hnk...how- how does that even come out??? Do you have to miracle it? Is it actually smaller than it looks and that's all amnioti-"  
"No Crowley. It's this big and it just comes out naturally, okay?"  
Colour left the demon's face and he started feeling a little faint as he eyed the "bump" that the egg formed. His own eggs were smaller than a fist yet laying them was already a strange and uncomfortable experience. He couldn't even begin to imagine how bad an egg that size could be. There's no way it's actually that big right? This has to be some sort of optical illusion...

It was most definitely not. It was another week before Aziraphale went into egg labour or whatever it's called and Crowley decided to be present, simply out of morbid curiosity and concern for the angel. And it was ridiculous. Sure, their corporations didn't have the same limitations as humans but the way the egg stretched him out was just obscene! There was no way something that size should fit between those hips even if the angel had miracled away his entire pelvis and hip joints and turned his muscles to jelly. Nevertheless, after a few hours, Crowley was staring at what was certainly the biggest egg he had ever seen (if you don't count the egg models in dinosaur parks). Crowley was so shocked by the huge white slime covered thing that he barely noticed as the angel next to him shook off his exhaustion and moved towards the monster egg. He picked it up and after a short silence looked at Crowley "Do you want an omelette or would you prefer crêpes, Dear?"


	2. Lost in rags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entry for the first appearance of the moved PHV event in the Tickety Boo server rather than in the original OLHTS. The prompt: “Angel, why is a ___ in your closet?”.

"Angeeeel!!! Pleeeaaaseee!!!!!"

"Oh, If you want me to wear that dratted robe, you're going to have to find it yourself" huffed Aziraphale, shooting Crowley an annoyed look.

Crowley grinned and before the Angel could even react, he was making his way up the spiral staircase towards the angel's barely used living quarters. Crowley had only been in those rooms a handful of times, so it took some effort to locate where exactly the angel kept his outdated attire. He finally found it in a small chamber behind the untouched bedroom.

The Angel's wardrobe, made from fine dark mahogany, was jam packed with old clothes. Crowley started searching. He pushed aside the two front layers of Victorian coats and waistcoats to find some of his older clothes; the slutty rococo Bastille outfit that he miracled back after leaving Paris, a long, creamy white regency dress from that short period of time when Aziraphale presented as a lady to become "acquainted" with that Jane Austen woman, a long tacky baby blue overcoat from somewhere in the late 1790s/early 1800s and several other clothing items from around that period, all in pristine condition. He pushed those aside also, to find another layer of coats and vests, these from earlier periods. A knee-length pink and cream jewel covered suit with a long curly wig, awkwardly pinned to the hanger, ruffled shirts, slops, big ruffled collars attached to capes and among these also hung that pretty embroidered outfit he wore during their time at the Globe. Crowley smiled at the happy memory of Aziraphale's overenthusiastic wiggles and went to push through to yet another layer.  
He had to step inside to do so and navigate his way over the many pairs of shoes scattered on the wardrobe floor. He pushed through several more layers containing gowns and robes from earlier eras, but the further he went, the less organised the clothes were. A tapered robe from their time in Golgotha was carelessly draped over a polished suit of armour, a 5th century Celtic oiled wool coat hung slap bang next to a pre-christian Roman toga, a cocaine filled snuff box was attached to remains of the Angel's robe from the great flood. Old and "new" were mixed together but no matter how many layers Crowley pushed aside, there were more and there was no sign of the angelic robe he so desired. Was the wardrobe really this deep? Surely not. Certainly didn't look it from the outside.

After Satan knows how many layers of ancient rags there started to appear a light. He pushed through more layers. The light grew stronger. The air around him also became colder. Finally, after pushing through some old fur coats, he was hit in the face by a bright white light. He blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden change and something light and crunchy, like snow crackled under his feet. He looked around, a confused look appearing on his face...

"Angel?" shouted Crowley " why is there a snowy forest with a lamp post in your wardrobe?"


End file.
